Yet another book I wish I had known about when I was a child. I’m absolutely thrilled to know there are more in the series – I just need to find the time to read them!

This is the first in a series of wonderful children’s books about a peaceful community of field mice who live within the quiet confines of Redwall Abbey. The brotherhood slumbers quietly on the edge of the Moss Wood, providing a place of humble solitude and unquestioned refuge for any who seek it. They live a simple wholesome life enjoying the good things nature has to offer – like goat’s milk, honey and nut brown ale. I feel warm inside just thinking about it.

Of course, it takes conflict to make a story, and so be prepared, once you open this book, for the lives of the Redwall mice to be thrown into turmoil. Not a day is given over to the lives within the Abbey before Cluny the Scourge, a vicious, one-eyed rodent, whose nightmarish existence is the stuff of legends, rolls in from the wild woods beyond the horizon. The noisome creature sets his sights on Redwall Abbey, determined to turn the warm stone walls into a fetid nesting ground for himself and his band of vile vagabonds. This is the beginning of an epic battle, the likes of which the peaceful brotherhood of Redwall has not seen for hundreds of years.

Our unlikely hero is a small, clumsy field mouse named Matthias, a new addition to the Abbey, who has a lot to learn about the complex history of his new home as he fights to defend its boundaries from Cluny’s deadly crew. It will take more than just the mice to defend the Abbey, but enlisting help from their neighbours is not as easy as just asking for it. The Moss Woods are rife with historical conflicts, and the mice, though peaceful, have a rather unsettling past. Beyond tribal feuds, though, are two evils more sinister than the sins of every benign entity combined, and only communal action can ensure that these dark presences do not forever disrupt the quiet equilibrium of the forest.

This book has a lot to offer to different readers. On one level it provides a fantastic amount of action for children’s literature – I was inadvertently clenching my teeth while reading about the battle between the mice and Cluny, and was filled with genuine terror at the idea of ‘old poison teeth’. On a personal level, though, I could have happily read all about the mice of Redwall without there being any kind of altercation. Redwall is the kind of community that one feeds on hearing about. Like the woodland animals in the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe – specifically Mr and Mrs Badger – or any one of Beatrix Potter’s books. I am in love with the life that the mice live – it is so wholesome and wonderful; a simple, healthy life full of good things. The Abbey stands as a natural organ of the forest and the mice and the other creature that live within the walls keep it running like a well oiled bicycle – what more could I ask for in a book? A quiet life makes for content reading.

I was really taken by the complexity of Jacques’ characters. My personal favourite is Basil Stag Hare, whose ghost-like reflexes, mildly misquoted malapropisms and insatiable appetite are nothing short of genius. When it comes to characters that are also hares, Basil Stag is easily one of the most excellent I have ever come across*. He is joined by a whole host of unforgettable faces, Ambrose Spike the greedy hedgehog, Constance the formidable badger, and Warbeak, a sparrow who is much too big for her tiny, tiny boots.

Overall, I really enjoyed my first dip into the realms of Redwall Abbey. Jacques has crammed so much into this first book, and I have no doubt the rest will not disappoint. I would strongly recommend giving Redwall a try if you are a fan of young adult literature, tales of idyllic livelihoods interrupted, or anything containing anthropomorphic mice.

*This may sound oddly specific, but as a lifelong fan of Harriet’s Hare it is no mean feat

Well hello there friends. Today marks exactly three years since I decided to put my love of reading to good use and start a book blog. What started with a fairly mediocre review of Jude the Obscure, has seen me through good books, bad books, self published novels and classic texts, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.

There seemed like no better day to break my recent radio silence – I won’t make any excuses, you know the score, I’m a busy lady – and bring you a little update, the bad news is that I don’t have a review to share with you today, for that you’ll have to check back tomorrow. I start as I mean to go on!

But I can give you a little taste of what’s to come over the next few months, as I’ve recieved a few little treats while I’ve been gone.

I’ve got two, yes, two, awesome new book boxes from my dear friends Prudence and the Crow. As always, they are marvelous. I am particularly excited by April’s offering, The Kingdom of Carbonel, which, if the cover is anything to go by, promises to be wonderfully spooky.

But PATC aren’t the only ones who have been sending me a little book-shaped gifts. I also recieved this delightful little care package from my super-awesome friend Jacleen, a tiny little taste of life in California.

Yes, ladies and gentleman, that is a signed photo of a real life cowboy alongside a book about how to secure yourself a your own personal wildwest stud muffin, what more could a girl ask for?

Nothing, that’s what.

Don’t get too excited though, you’ll have to wait a little while before you can read my thoughts on all these sexy cowboys and ghostly goings on. For now, get ready for tyrannical rats, magical circuses, tragic nymphs and little women.

This month brought with it the beginning of spring. I know storm Katie has given the countryside a battering this weekend, but between the wind and the rain there have been burst of blissful sunshine, during which I have felt full of the joys of the season.

N.B. Cambridge is currently experiencing a rather windy spell and I am actually curled up with my reading room with a pot of tea, wearing long johns and a thermal vest.

I think Crow may have picked up on my love of inscriptions…

I was delighted, as always, with my haul from Prudence and the Crow, and, even though I am currently still reading, and loving, January’s book, I can’t wait to get started on this month’s book!

This month I have been treated to Green Smoke by Rosemary Manning – a delightful, or so I’m told, tale about a young girl called Susan who goes on holiday to Constantine Bay in Cornwall: the best place in the world for a holiday. One day, while climbing on the rocks, and exploring the bay, she stumbles upon something nestled in one of the many, mysterious coves – an extra-special secret, in the form of a big green dragon. As luck would have it, he’s a rather friendly creature.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to read some more of Swallows and Amazons, and maybe to take a little nap – it is Easter weekend afterall 🙂

I know, I know, February ended yesterday. In my defence I have been incredibly busy – there was this trip to Germany, multiple training courses and then I got obsessed with a computer game, it’s just been crazy!

This month’s – or rather last month’s – box of treats, as usual, did not disappoint. Prudence and the Crow have clearly picked up on my love of children’s literature, and are doing their best to introduce me to all sorts of wonderful names and stories.

“I believe in everything until it’s disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it’s in your mind. Who’s to say that dreams and nightmares aren’t as real as the here and now?” ― John Lennon

Beautiful cover huh? It’s not mine though.

It was a dark and stormy night in Black Ness, the wind was cruel and the rain fell in harsh, icy sheets. All through the town not a soul could be seen, but down in the bay a lone figure made his way through the waves, the sole survivor of a merchant ship, dashed to smithereens on the sharp rocks. Late that night, as the town settled down to sleep, a stranger came ashore.

A Stranger Came Ashore delves into the myths of the selkie-folk – seals that can assume a human form, and are often seen with their heads bobbing just above the waterline, staring into shore with strangely human eyes. The myths are known most commonly in the Orkney Islands and the Shetland Islands – the latter being where this story takes place. While the myths of the selkie-folk vary from place to place, one thing is always consistent, in order to assume human form, a selkie must shed its skin, at which point it becomes instantly vulnerable, for if a selkie should lose its skin it cannot return out to sea.

I love to read up on local myths and legends, not only does it give a great insight to the culture of a place, but I find the thrill of the unknown absolutely irresistible. I like to look up local legends and famous haunted spots anytime I visit a new city – an odd quality perhaps, but there you go. So, basically, I was absolutely thrilled to discover this book.

I have heard of selkie-folk before, but the only stories I can recall are about the female selkie. These stories are often more tragic than dark: the woeful tale of a beautiful selkie woman lured onto land by a human man, who inevitably steals her seal skin and takes her for a wife. Typically, the woman in the story eventually reclaims her skin, usually because one of her children stumbles upon it, and flees back to her home beneath the waves never to be seen again. Tales of the female selkie are somewhat notorious for following this theme, as is eloquently summed up by Sofia Samatar in Selkie Stories are for Losers:

I hate selkie stories. They’re always about how you went up to the attic to look for a book, and you found a disgusting old coat and brought it downstairs between finger and thumb and said “What’s this?”, and you never saw your mom again.

A Stranger Came Ashore is different to the ‘selkie stories’ so abhorred by Samatar, however, and instead focuses on the insidious, manipulative side of the male selkie.

The male selkie when in human form is said to be a wonderfully handsome creature, with magical powers of seduction over Earth-borne women. In selkie lore, the male selkie enjoys nothing more than coming onshore, shedding his skin, and seeking out unsatisfied women, both married and unmarried, to satisfy his cravings. Indeed, according to 19th century Orkney folklorist, Walter Traill Dennison, selkie males ‘often made havoc among thoughtless girls, and sometimes intruded into the sanctity of married life.’ Scandalous!

Enter Finn Learson – the protagonist, and guest selkie, of A Stranger Came Ashore. Finn Learson appears to the Henderson family one dark and stormy night, knocking on the door of their simple butt and benn house to seek refuge from the weather. Assuming him to be a victim of a ship wreck, the family offer him a bed by the fire, and are quickly taken by the young man’s charms. Indeed no one is more taken with Finn Learson than young Elspeth Henderson, who, though she herself is bequeathed to the wonderfully eligible Nicol Anderson, is instantly bewitched by the stranger’s deep brown eyes. The only members of the family who are not fooled by Finn Learsons’s charade are Robbie Henderson, and his grandfather, Old Da – both of whom are horrendously outspoken, one for being young and impressionable, the other for being old and somewhat ridiculous. Soon after Finn Learson’s arrival Old Da’s health takes a sudden turn for the worse and he confesses his suspicions to Robbie. Informing the boy that Finn Learson is none other than the evil great selkie of Shetland legends, and he has come to take Elspeth.

Poor Robbie Henderson knows in his heart there is something wrong with Finn Learson but he is never to be believed by his family, who see only the polite young man that the great selkie wants them to see. The selkie-folk are nothing but a myth – and Old Da is guilty of filling Robbie’s head with fantasy. With no one in his family willing to listen, Robbie turns to the only person who might be able to help, a man who fills his belly with terror: Yarl Corbie – the local schoolmaster. Yarl Corbie is a brutal, terrifying and mysterious man, who agrees to lend a hand to Robbie, if only to fulfil his own personal vendetta.

On the night of Up Helly Aa – a pagan festival celebrated in the Shetland Islands – Finn Learson makes his move. As the daylight fades, the young men of Black Ness are transformed into the Earth spirits of old and a dreamlike state of merriment falls over the town. Finn Learson weaves through the celebrations, leading the beautiful Elspeth from house to house, while Robbie follows. The pair fly through the crowds, dancing in the moonlight and jumping from place to place like shadows in candlelight. There is mystical, almost spiritual feel to the festival, as though Robbie is chasing an apparition – in a blink of an eye all could be lost.

One moment he had the will-o’-the-wisp figure of Elspeth in full view as she danced ahead of him across the hill. The next moment, his weary eyelids drooped, and before he could blink them open again, the green of the northern lights had vanished behind one of the sky’s spells of total darkness.

As she slips through the crowds Elspeth is blind to her fate. Obliviously living out what could be her last moments on Earth; she dances closer and closer to the great selkie’s home beneath the waves.

This book is positively brimming with everything I love: myths, legends, premonitions, dark tidings, strange characters, and creatures that lurk in the shadows. It’s is a creepy, thrilling read, which also offers an insight into some truly fascinating culture. A Stranger Came Ashore would be the perfect novel for anyone with an interest in myths and legends, but would be particularly well suited to a young Goosebumps or Point Horror enthusiast who fancies sinking their teeth into something a little more substantial.

I hope you all had an amazing Christmas and New Year with your loved ones.

I know, I know, I suck! I’ve been really rubbish the last month and haven’t posted a single update!

You see…

The run up to Christmas was insanely busy, what with 12-week reviews, gift shopping, chest infections, and preparing for a long-haul flight (which, it turns out, makes me rather anxious), and I very much needed to take a little time off – I do hope you will forgive my radio silence!

Excuses, excuses.

In other news, we’ve just come back from an amazing few weeks in Hong Kong!

In my time away I drank Champagne in the highest bar in the world, got purposely elbowed in the face by a Chinese woman, fell over – twice, saw a real life giant panda, and ate more strange things than I would care to admit (sea cucumber is definitely an acquired taste).

But you didn’t come here to read about my festive antics, did you?

You’ll be pleased to hear that in my absence I surmounted quite the pile of books to review, so I’m going to have a very busy start to the new year. It’s a good thing I am feeling so wonderfully refreshed 🙂

I also returned to some very welcome packages from my good friends Prudence and the Crow!

November’s box

December’s box

While I’m over the moon with both my books, I’ll be placing November’s choice on the bookshelf for now, purely because I reviewed all the Chronicles of Narnia not that long ago, but I can’t wait to get started on December’s choice:

Redwall – Brian Jacques

It is the start of the Summer of the Late Rose. Redwall Abbey, the peaceful home of a community of mice slumbers in the warmth of a summer afternoon. The mice are busy preparing for the great Jubilee Feast.

Bust not for long. Cluny is coming! The evil one-eyed rat warlord is advancing with his battle-scarred mob. And Cluny wants Redwall.

Needless to say, I am thrilled with the prospect of another vintage children’s book to sink my teeth into – especially as it comes with a personal recommendation from Prudence.